Nikita
by Time Thief
Summary: The annual Bell Festival has returned to Ecruteak City, and at the apex of the festivities is the Storyteller's performance. Kazuo, the Storyteller's son, accepts the role this year. While weaving his grand tale, he is interrupted by Interpol agent Looker with news: Lugia is dead, and its poachers plan to attack Ecruteak next... Nikita is a four-part tale of tradition and family.
1. Chapter One: Tragedy

A breeze swept through Ecruteak City, stirring the orange trees and the paper lanterns hung throughout town. Red, yellow, and orange leaves skirted underfoot the bustling crowds, each person wearing a mask resembling a Pokémon. There were no streetlamps or other electrical lights on, and even the moon hid its face; only flames and the millions of stars above lit the city. Hundreds of candles flickered next to the flowing forms of five women. The bright greens, reds, and golds of their kimonos shone in the firelight. The steps of their dance created a song all their own; the crowd was mesmerized and silent, and some of the older men closed their eyes and listened.

In one of the larger homes on the northern edge of the city, a woman shouted, "Hurry up, Kazuo! We're missing the Kimono Girls' dance!"

Kazuo said, "I can't find my mask!"

"I have it right here," she said. Kazuo looked up from the drawer he was digging in to see it dangling from her fingers. It was shaped in the form of Lugia's face, and was crafted from bits of ceramic like a stained glass window. "Are you sure you'll be comfortable? It seems quite heavy."

He grabbed it and sat it on his nose. His eyes peeked through perfectly; he'd made it just right. It matched his white robe with blue trimmings. "It's comfy. It is."

She laughed. Her mask was paper-made, and it was cut to resemble Flaafy's face. It flattered her pink robes. "Okay, dear. Hold my hand so you don't get lost. Stay close."

She led him through the dark streets. The festival was on the west side of town, so the area near their home was completely black save for the stars. "Your father wondered if you were prepared for tonight."

"I'm ready." Panic pricked in Kazuo's chest. As the son of the Storyteller, it was his job to memorize all of the tales his father repeated. If he lost even one word, the story would be changed forever. Tonight was the first night he would be tested, though he was only nine years old. A special gift from his grandfather calmed him during trying times: a gold necklace that Kazuo had worn since the moment it touched his hands. He grasped the oval pendant that lay against his chest and took deep breaths.

A huge crowd had gathered for the festival, and though several stalls were set up, every single person was watching the Kimono Girls. Kazuo and his mother melded into the masses. He stood on his toes but still couldn't see the stage. He eased his way to the front of the crowd, where the other children sat at the Girls' feet. Kazuo knelt and watched them dance, their movements flowing smoother than water. All five of them synchronized perfectly, each step in time.

After a few moments the dance was over. As the women walked off of the stage, Kazuo's father beckoned to him; despite the Entei mask, Kazuo recognized his father's massive stature and bald head. He climbed to the stage floor and stood beside his father, who boomed, "Welcome to the Bellchime Festival, everyone. I am happy to see so many faces, new and old, in our humble city of Ecruteak. If you do not know, I am the Storyteller. This year, however, I will not be the speaker. My son has prepared an old tale for you all. This is his first event, but I'm sure he will not disappoint."

The Storyteller smiled down at Kazuo, and for a moment, his worries faded. He stepped forward at the first beat of the accompanying drum. "Here is a story I am sure you've all heard. Southwest from here, past the homely light of the Olivine Lighthouse, lay four dark islands. Devastating whirlpools surround these isles, ones that could swallow a Wailord and spit him out on the ocean floor, ones that would tear apart the largest ships so that only wood chippings remain! These five Whirl Islands house the spirit of the ocean, the great leviathan known as Lugia.

"Lugia is a protector of the world's oceans. His legendary strength allows him to swim against even the strongest of currents or command them as he pleases. Lugia's roar can split seas and his wingbeats stir ponds across the world. This power is used not in conquering, but in calming. Lugia's one true mission is harmony. When the legendary Pokémon go to war against each other, it is said that Lugia is the one who settles them.

"It is said that, one day, Lugia will appear to one chosen hero. This hero, of pure heart, spirit, and strength, will hold the two keys to finding the legendary leviathan. One of those keys is the Silver Wing, a shining remnant of Lugia's own feathers. The Silver Wing is said to glow, in the hands of the legendary hero, revealing that Lugia is nearby. It just so happens that the Silver Wing is held by the Storytellers' line in Ecruteak City."

Kazuo opened up his gold pendant. "This is the- huh?"

The Wing glowed as he held it. The crowd gasped as the shine fell upon their faces.

" _Dead!_ " The shout grabbed the peoples' attention, and they parted for a man wearing a trench coat. He doubled over, panting, and yelled again: "Lugia is dead!"

The Storyteller shoved past Kazuo, who was still gaping at the shining Silver Wing. His father said, "Who are you to say such blasphemy? State your business!"

The man straightened and pulled a badge out of his pocket. "Code name Looker of the International Police. We've been after some high level poachers, and word is that they broke into the Whirl Islands, used their Pokémon to make it past the giant waterfalls, and killed the Legendary Pokémon for its skin."

"That's impossible," said Kazuo. He shut the pendant and continued: "Lugia is too strong to die to poachers!"

Looker said, "Maybe one or two, but thirty at once? I'm sorry, kid. I knew it was important to all of you, so I came here as fast as I could. Lugia is gone."

A harsh wind passed through, extinguishing many candles onstage. Kazuo hugged himself with one arm and kept his other hand on the Silver Wing.

"Forgive me if I find this hard to believe, sir," said Kazuo's father. Even with weight of the news on him, his voice still flowed smoothly and sweetly as honey. Kazuo found a small refuge in that; his father was the unweathered rock.

"Of course," Looker said. "You can believe whatever you like. I just thought it would be right to inform you. We think that the poachers may attack the city as well, so-"

 _Bong! Bong! Bong!_ The great bell atop Bell Tower chimed over and over. Kazuo said, "Father- uh, Storyteller, why is the bell ringing? I thought it was only supposed to signify..."

A piercing cry resounded from the east, where Mt. Mortar pierced the night sky, its peak a shadow against the stars. A golden figure soared from beyond it at an alarming speed. Each flap of its wings showered golden sparks on the lands below it. It alighted atop Bell Tower, where its form was barely visible to the festival goers. It flapped its wings, and brilliant feathers shining iridescently floated on the wind. Its neck reared back and it released a deep cry, the lowest pitch a bird could muster. It continued until its breath failed it then started another again and again.

"The legendary bird Ho-Oh has graced us with its presence," said the Storyteller. "It has come to mourn. It mourns the death of Lugia."

The crowd's whispers of doubt and amazement exploded into shouts. They broke into a mad dash to the Bell Tower, but Kazuo knew that the barriers would prevent them from ascending the tower. He used the chaos as an escape from the stage. He popped open his pendant and tracked the enlarging glow of the Silver Wing.

It led him to the edge of the city, where the concrete ended and autumn wood began. Before he took his first step away from Ecruteak, the sound of someone crying reached his ears. He clapped the pendant shut and ran towards the noise. A young woman was curled against the hollow of a great oak.

"Are you alright?" Kazuo asked.

She lifted her face towards his, and her eyes widened. She scrambled backwards, choking on her own tears and screams.

"No, no, wait! I'm sorry, it's just a mask, that's all!" He tore off the Lugia face, ashamed to still be wearing it after what had happened. "What's wrong? I heard you crying."

She wiped at her eyes. Her back was still pressed against the tree trunk, and her movements were skittish. Her white dress was dirty and torn. Her silver hair was wild and muddy. Her voice came out as a whisper: "Why were you wearing that?"

"It's a part of the Bell Festival in Ecruteak City. Every year, we wear masks in respect of the Pokémon we admire the most."

"Why would you choose Lugia?" she shouted. She skirted around the tree trunk and backed away from him. Kazuo noticed that she walked with a limp. "Why would you after you did this? You killed him!"

"What?" Kazuo said. "Wait. I didn't do anything! I love Lugia, I'd never want anything to happen to him. Are you okay? You seem hurt. If you come back with me I can take you to the Center..."

She said, "Mere words. You humans are all the same."

"Wha-? Wait, I said wait!" She half-sprinted, half-limped into the dark of the woods. He wanted to help her, but he was afraid that if he followed, he couldn't find his way back. As he turned around, he opened his pendant. The Silver Wing shone brighter than ever, but the light was fading.


	2. Chapter Two: Healing

A week out from the death of Lugia, and the cries still came from the top of Bell Tower. The city had slowed. Debris from the festival still littered the ground. Everyone wore mourning robes, and even the Kimono Girls' wore black and closed the theatre. The paper lanterns remained, but a strong, storm-carrying wind had torn many of them. Black clouds drifted in from past Mt. Mortar.

Kazuo rested near the Goldeen pond. At its center was a large rock with an open mouth, from which a waterfall cascaded infinitely. The shadow of the storm swallowed the pond in mere moments. Rain ripples dotted the pond. Shouts and doors slamming drowned out the sound of the downpour. Kazuo did not move.

"Boy."

Kazuo leapt to his feet. The girl looked like a ghost amidst the mist drifting into town. He recognized her as the same girl he'd seen in the forest the week before. She still wore the torn dress, but otherwise she was cleaner than before.

"H-hi," he said. "Hello, I mean."

She tilted her head. "You're the silvertongue's son, aren't you?"

"Storyteller. He's called the Storyteller."

"Whatever. You and I are going to calm Ho-oh down."

"Huh? You can't just tell me to… There's not even a way up to him!"

She smirked. Her bob of silver hair stuck to her face, and the rain slid down her face like tears. "I can get us up there. Look, it's really important to me that Ho-oh has his peace again. I figured mini silvertongue would have a way to help."

"Why me? Why not my fa- the Storyteller?"

Her grin faltered. "Because children are harmless. Now, will you help or won't you?"

Kazuo crossed his arms. Moving was difficult because his black robe was weighed down by the water soaked into it. He tried his best to look tough regardless. "I need to know more about you."

"Alright," she sighed. "My name is Nikita. I'm on the run. It's very important that you don't let anyone know I'm around, okay?"

"What does on the run mean?"

"Means I'm running away from something." Nikita scoffed. "Dumb kid."

"I am not dumb!"

"Strong argument."

"Sh-Shut up! You're a jerk! Why would I want to help you?"

"You think I want to babysit some kid? I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do. Ho-oh is in pain. You have a way to help – right?"

"Yeah, I do. Fine." Kazuo knelt by the nearest tree and dug through the scattered wet leaves. "By the way, I'm not a kid. I'm nine years old. Practically an adult."

Nikita only laughed. His face heated, so he focused on Ho-oh's heartrending cries to forget the rude girl. Kazuo produced a round, green leaf.

"One of the stories passed down in my family speaks of a town in Sinnoh known as Alamos. At the center of Alamos is the greatest bell tower ever built. It was created to play one melody known as Oración. Oración has the power to calm anyone, person or Pokémon. My grandfather – the old Storyteller, before he died – taught me how to play Oración on leafwhistle to go with the story. That will help Ho-oh."

"Sounds good, kid. Now, hold on."

"Wha-" Nikita wrapped her arms around him from behind. Kazuo struggled against her until he saw two great, silver wings sprout from her back. Her wings beat once and they rocketed away from the earth.

They soared towards the heavens, but the rain fought against them. Nikita pulled higher and higher despite the odds, each flap carrying them closer to the tower's crest. The rain stung Kazuo like whip lashes but his amazement forgot the pain.

Nikita spread her wings to glide into the shadow of the great bell. The legendary bird was a misty shadow in the distance; it cried despite the weather, but the storm swallowed the sound.

"Woah! Oh my Arceus- er, sorry for the curse, but wow! You have _wings_! You're so cool, Nikita!"

She held a straight face that wasn't strong enough. She broke into a smirk but wiped it away. "Whatever. How are we going to get him to hear the song?"

Kazuo squared his shoulders and said, "You can always hear the song."

The rain pelted him as he walked towards Ho-oh's outline. He stood as close as the length of his bravery and pulled out the small leaf. Kazuo's breath whistled through the leaf. The motions of Oración were simple but as he played it, he had a hard time focusing.

Throughout the soft song, memories danced in Kazuo's mind: of playing in the bright sun with a natural grin, of the feel of his mother's arms, of his grandfather's lap and the legends he told. As the song reached its end, Kazuo became aware that the rain had stopped. He opened his eyes.

Ho-oh, radiant in the sunlight, eyed Kazuo. It cooed softly and kowtowed so its beak almost touched Kazuo's toes. Ho-oh spread its wings, water shedding from them, and soared towards Mt. Mortar. As it flew, it soaked in the sun. Ho-oh shone golden, and its flight path traced a rainbow over Ecruteak. The clearing storm left the sky a perfectly clear blue. The brilliant colors of Ho-oh and its rainbow were stark, almost sparkling in the afternoon light.

Kazuo remembered Nikita as he admired the legendary bird's departure. He turned back to the bell but stopped before shouting her name. She had crumbled to the ground. Tears streaked her face, cascading harsher than the downpour ever could be.

He ran to her and knelt by her side. "What's wrong?"

"Look at it," she whimpered. "Look at how beautiful it is. Do you know why?"

"Um. Because it's Ho-oh? The legendary?"

"No!" She pulled herself to her feet. "Because you healed him. You relieved his guilt. You gave him happiness. That's where the beauty came from. Why can't people be like you, Kazuo? Why can't they work to heal, work towards happiness? All they do instead is break and shatter others for themselves. Why?"

"I don't know." He shifted. Tears still streamed down her cheeks. "Why did you say Ho-oh felt guilt?"

Nikita turned her back on the rainbow and pointed at the Burned Tower. "This used to be the home of Ho-oh _and_ Lugia. They reigned together equally. One day Ho-oh decided that wasn't enough. In the dead of a stormy night, it used its sacred fire to leave Lugia's tower as ashes. The legendary beasts perished in the flames, but Ho-oh revived them. They left Lugia's side to pledge their loyalty to Ho-oh because of this. Everyone blamed the fire on a lightning strike, but Lugia and Ho-oh know the truth. Once Ho-oh realized the pain it caused Lugia and when Lugia's absence hit Ho-oh, it realized the depth of the evil it had done. It left the tower and never returned… until Lugia was killed."

"Oh man." Kazuo looked back at the rainbow. "Forgiveness has a lot of power, I guess."

Nikita wiped at her tears. "What?"

Kazuo opened the golden clasp at his neck. The Silver Wing glowed within. "It's been glowing ever since I met you, Nikita."

A sob tore out of her. She bit her knuckle to hold it back. "I watched. Father was murdered, Kazuo. I had to watch the whole thing. I couldn't look away."

"Nikita-"

"I couldn't look away." She stepped back from him as he stepped forward. Nikita leapt off of the tower, her wings and tears shining in the sun.


	3. Chapter Three: Revenge

Kazuo was grounded for two weeks for sneaking to the top of the bell tower despite his intentions. He thought about Nikita the entire time. Most of his time was spent studying legends of Lugia, looking for truth in her story of Ho-oh's treachery. Everyone in town, maybe even in the entire region knew the story of the lightning strike burning down the second tower. There were some hints to it being Lugia's perch, but they were few. The story of the beasts' resurrection was commonplace.

His father wouldn't listen to the idea. Kazuo said, "Grandfather would have heard it. He would have looked into it."

The Storyteller grabbed Kazuo by the neck of his robes. "If you mention him one more time, you won't be a part of this family anymore. You hear me, boy?"

"Yes," Kazuo gulped. The Storyteller threw him down and left the house. Kazuo sat and stared at the closed door for minutes he couldn't count. He then tore off his mourning robe and threw on his casual clothes: a t-shirt and shorts only to be worn in the house. He climbed to the window in his room and slipped onto the streets of Ecruteak.

The city was silent without Ho-oh's cries. The winds of winter were tearing the last of the leaves from the trees. The beauty of fall was dying, and winter was breaking out of its crypt with a vengeance; a harsh chill kept the temperature low.

Kazuo crept through his dead town to reach the Goldeen Pond. He sat on the far edge, wishing he had brought a jacket. The last time he had been out, it was a nice temperature. Soon the pond would freeze over, and the ever-pouring rock would stop.

Recalling the last time he'd visited the pond, Kazuo looked to the forest. The brilliant oranges, reds, and golds were gone. A few brown leaves clung to the trees, but most covered the ground. He noticed a sparkle of silver among them. He leapt to his feet and sprinted towards it.

Nikita sat against a skinny tree. Despite their parting words a couple of weeks ago, Kazuo smiled as widely as possible. She did not notice. He said, "Hi Nikita!"

"Wha-?" She snapped to attention as if out of a daze. "Why are you here?"

"What's wrong with you?"

Her teeth chattered. She hugged her knees and buried her face against them. "Please leave."

Kazuo sat next to her. "It must be cold out here. Do you want a jacket? I can bring you one. I wish it could stay fall forever. Winter is the worst-"

"Kazuo." He met her eyes. They seemed glazed over. "Did you hear what I said?"

"S-sorry." He stood and said, "To tell the truth, you're my only friend. When I went to school in Goldenrod, nobody liked me because I was the Storyteller's son. They said I wore weird clothes and had a weird family and all I could do was tell stories so I got bad marks. I really am a dumb kid. But you, you're the coolest person I've ever met. I've been thinking about you, and you must really be having a hard time, so I just want to say, again, if you need anything-"

"Kazuo."

"Sorry."

She ran her hands through her hair. "I haven't eaten in a few days. I-"

"Good Arceus! I'll be back with some!"

"No, let me finish- Kazuo, come back!"

He was gone, running back to his home. He climbed through the window and sneaked into the kitchen. His mother would normally be there, but she was in bed. She had already cut and wrapped some fresh Magikarp. Kazuo grabbed the whole fillet, snatched a jacket from his closet, and dashed back to the forest. He set the package and the coat next to Nikita.

She said, "I don't want this, Kazuo. I told you to leave me alone. I don't care about your life story and I'm _not_ your friend. Leave. Me. Alone."

"But…" Tears stained his cheeks. He scowled and said, "No! I've done all of this for you, I've done nothing but be nice to you. That's not right, it's not. You can't just-"

"I can. I own me, kid, and I want to be alone. I never asked for any of this. I never wanted you to find me or be your friend or have you yell at me about what's fair and what's not. You don't even know anything, Kazuo. You're a dumb kid. Don't forget that."

"Well… you…" Kazuo screamed and ran back to town. He stood next to the pond and watched his own reflection. He looked terrible, his face flushed and eyes puffy. He wiped at his face but it didn't help. He sighed and dropped to his knees.

"Kazuo!" It was his mother's voice. He expected a verbal lashing, but worry replaced the anger he expected. "Kazuo, you must come home. Take my hand and-"

"Well, what do we have here?" A man who wore spiky plating over his dark clothes strutted out of an alley. A Conkeldurr lumbered behind him.

Kazuo's mother ran to him and stood between him and the man. "Don't hurt my son. Please."

"Alright Durr. Her, out." Conkeldurr dragged its stone weights behind it as it slowly walked towards them. Kazuo's mother took a few reluctant steps back, but when she touched Kazuo, she stopped dead. "Mach Punch."

Conkeldurr released his weights. He leapt forward lightning fast and slammed his fist into Kazuo's mother's face. She collapsed. Blood poured from her nose. Kazuo lost the ability to breathe, to think. He watched the blood puddle around her cheek.

The man gripped Kazuo's shoulders. "Alright, kid. I'm gonna give you one chance, you hear me? She isn't dead, but she will be if you don't answer me. I'm looking for another kid. The Storyteller's son, he's called. He wears robes all the time. Where is he?"

Kazuo tried to speak but a whimper came out instead. The Conkeldurr loomed closer and closer. The man said, "Do I have to say it twice? If you don't tell me, I'll kill her. How about a little taste yourself, kid? Durr, give him a light Mach Punch."

As Conkeldurr readied his fist and fear grabbed Kazuo's heart, a silver blur blinded him. He was shoved out of the way, and Conkeldurr's attack slammed into Nikita's stomach. Her face was twisted with pain but she whispered, "Aeroblast."

Green light gathered in the palm of Nikita's hand. She thrust it up into Conkeldurr's chest, and air exploded from it, tossing Conkeldurr into the air. When he fell, he left cracks in the pavement. Red light enveloped him.

"The hell was that?"

Nikita's eyes glowed azure. The same light surrounded the man. Nikita thrust her hand outward, and he slammed into the pond's ever-flowing rock. He collapsed against it, the water flowing over his shoulder.

"You saved me," Kazuo said. "Nikita, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"These are the murderers." The glow was still in Nikita's eyes. She was shaking all over, and her stare was still trapped on the unconscious man. "They're evil. They deserve the same fate."

She rose her arm, but Kazuo grabbed her hand. "Stop! If you do that, you're no better than them. Remember, there's power in forgiveness."

"They killed Lugia, Kazuo! _They killed father!_ "

"Please, Nikita. I don't want you to be like Ho-oh. I don't want to see blood on your hands. I don't want more people to die."

Nikita took a deep breath, held, released. The glow faded. "Why are they here? I thought it would be for me, but he didn't understand what I am."

"They're looking for me," Kazuo said. "I don't know why."

"You stay with me." She nodded at him. He noticed then that she was wearing the jacket he gave her. "I was born to be a protector. I'm not a killer. I'm not like them."

Kazuo smiled as he followed her through the streets. After leaving Kazuo's mother at his house, they blasted through town, Nikita knocking out any poacher or Pokémon in their way. They had to free a few hostages, most of them children even younger than Kazuo. The children's faces were more skeptical and fearful than relieved when rescued, however.

The leader was supposedly at the Bell Tower's base according to information Nikita _gently coerced_ out of a poacher. Kazuo led her in through the back entrance the guardians use, but nobody was at the checkpoint. Kazuo said, "They must have gone to the tower."

"Let's fly to the top again. Now that the sun has set, they won't see us coming if they're at the top. If they're still in the tower, they won't expect us to be up there, so we can get the jump on them."

Kazuo ignored the explanation as he only wanted to fly again. "Yeah! Let's go!"

Outside, the stars and full moon rained silver light through the trees. Kazuo trailed Nikita as she wound through the forest. They crept around the edge of the bell tower and, once they had reached the back, Nikita grabbed Kazuo. Her wings sprouted, and leaves stirred in the wake of her flight.

Their ascent was slow as to be silent. The city below was dark and distant screams floated from it. Whenever a scream found them, Nikita's grip on Kazuo tightened. She hastened her flight, and they alighted behind the great bell.

The hum of hushed voices sounded from beyond the bell. Kazuo and Nikita knelt and crawled towards them. They peeked around its edge to see more armored men. One was holding a rainbow feather, one small remnant of Ho-oh's presence.

"It was definitely here. That kid was the only one that came face-to-face with it, though. He's got to know something about it."

"I'm sure they'll find him down there," said a man more heavily armored than the others. "Can you imagine taking Lugia _and_ Ho-oh under our names? We'll never be forgotten."

"'Never be forgotten?'" Nikita stormed onto the plaza. She swept up into the air, and golden sparks lit up her wings. "You think murdering a legendary will grant you glory? Sky Attack!"

The golden glow exploded into a harsh wind that blasted the two men. One was immediately knocked out, but the one with the heavier armor scrambled to his feet. He yelled, "The hell are you? That was a Pokémon attack!"

A soft green light enveloped Nikita. It faded slowly, leaving her in the form of a young Lugia. She remained suspended in the air. She used Psychic to lock the man in place. Her voice resounded from the sky, but her mouth didn't move: "I watched you slit my father's throat while he begged for mercy. I'm what's left. Did you think you could get away with killing your protector?"

Wind gathered in a sphere at her mouth, and she shot an Aeroblast at him. It scathed a mark in the concrete beside his head. Nikita landed and transformed back into a human. "I'm not going to do anything more to you. You deserve less than my guilt or anyone else's. You deserve to live with your own."

He laughed. "You think I really care? I'm gonna go down in history, kid. Everyone's gonna know my name like they know Giovanni, like they know Ghetsis… I have a legacy."

Nikita held her head high. "Your name will be tainted and lost to time. The true greats are the heroes like AZ, who learned from his mistakes. The true greats are the tales that teach lessons of purity and kindness. Your name will fall with the news. You will be replaced by the next Ghetsis, and your deed will be healed by time."

The man grabbed Nikita and held a knife to her throat. "Then I guess I'll have to make my deed even worse."

"Nikita!" Kazuo tackled the man who lashed out wildly. He nicked Kazuo in the stomach.

"Stop it right there! International Police! Hold em up!" The man who announced Lugia's death at the festival – Looker was his name, Kazuo recalled – stood in front of the bell. He leveled a pistol at the man's chest. Beside him, a Growlithe snarled. The man lunged at Looker, but Growlithe tackled him and the knife skidded away. Growlithe bit the man's hand as he tried to grab him. Looker commanded Growlithe away from him and locked handcuffs on him. "You're under arrest for the illegal murder of a Pokémon, assaulting minors, assaulting an officer…"

As he went on, Nikita knelt next to Kazuo. There was a thin red line on her throat. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I just need a bandage." The knife hadn't cut deep, but it was long enough that a lot of blood poured from it. "I'm sorry what I said before. About you. I was just… I really do think of you as my only friend, Nikita."

"Well, what I said still stands. We're not friends."

"Oh." Kazuo's face paled. He watched the blood stain his shirt. "Well… we got the killers. We did it."

"That ends my list," she said.

"Your list?"

"I came up with things I had to do after father died to honor his memory and truly lay him to rest. Now that they're done I can finally…"

Kazuo smiled. "Be happy?"

"No."

He faltered. "Then what?"

"Meet me a week from now at the pond."

"Nikita, please tell- hey!"

She leapt off the tower, her wings a silver sparkle in the moonlight. Kazuo held his stomach and looked to the stars. He mumbled, "Why?"


	4. Chapter Four: End, Begin

Kazuo's week passed agonizingly slowly. He dissected Nikita's words hundreds of times over to no avail. His focus dwindled until he couldn't even focus on his father's stories. When the day arrived, he awoke early, pulled on heavy, casual winter clothes, and leapt out of his window.

Winter had Ecruteak City under its siege. Icicles clung to crooked tree limbs. Snow dusted the streets and blanketed the forests. Early morning mist drifted about. The pond was like a mirror, and the white sky made the circles under Kazuo's eyes darker.

He buried his hands in his pockets and nuzzled into his scarf. The ghost of his breaths joined the heavy mist around him. He hopped in place to warm up, but the cold was relentless.

"Hello, Kazuo." Nikita materialized out of the fog.

"Nikita! You're here! I've been so excited all week, and I've been thinking of all of these questions I want to ask you, and…"

She held up a hand. "I have a gift for you."

"Woah, cool! But I wanted to know if…" Nikita held out a perfectly smooth, spherical stone. It was silver like the wing in Kazuo's locket. He could only barely hold it in his hand. He asked, "What is this?"

"It's the power of flight," she said. "Now you have your own wings, Kazuo."

"Huh? This rock? How..?"

"You'll have to figure it out for yourself." Nikita tilted her head. "My father gave it to me when I was old enough and said the same thing. You're a good person, Kazuo. You deserve it."

"Don't you need it?" he asked. She shook her head. "Why not?"

"I'm going away."

"But you're the new protector, aren't you? Where are you going?"

Nikita said nothing. After a few moments, Kazuo said, "So… does this mean we _are_ friends?"

"No!" She sighed, closed her eyes, and lowered her head. "We are most certainly not friends."

Kazuo looked at the stone she gave him. "Why not?"

"Because you only want a friend for the sake of having a friend. Because I don't mean anything to you past what I am, which is a legendary, some rare thing to you. You look at me like a piece of gold, not like I'm another human being. You and everyone else make me feel like I'm less. I am less."

She was crying and Kazuo's jaw was working but he lost words and forgot speaking. She stared at him and he stared back but still nothing came.

"We're not friends, but you are a good person compared to the rest. That much is true. Good-by. Good-by, Kazuo."

Nikita fled, the fog swallowing her, her becoming a ghost among it. Kazuo stood dead still. He felt paralyzed, captured by the fear of failure. It was familiar to him. One memory tried to pierce Kazuo's block on it, but he refused it.

The frozen pond's reflection stared back at him. He wondered if he had truly done what Nikita accused him of. He had treated her perfectly fine, as well as he possibly could. Where did he go wrong? How? Why?

"Kazuo! Where have you been?" His mother ran to him and grasped his shoulders. "I've been looking for you everywhere. After what happened with the poachers, I thought that maybe… Why are you crying? What happened?"

She carried him home as the tears poured, but he wouldn't tell her anything. Despite it all he wouldn't defy Nikita's first wish to have no one know about her.

He sat at the table in his room, warm milk steaming in front of him. He wiped at his face and thought through what had just happened. Nikita was acting differently from normal. Warm, even, when she gave him the gift, which he still held in his hands. She also was not angry when he asked her about friendship again, as she had been the times before. She was sad. She'd given him something that's necessary to her, important to her, and she had said good-by. She'd never said good-by before.

A memory of Kazuo's grandfather hit him, one that struck the paralyzing fear into him. Kazuo threw open the window and climbed out again. He wore only light clothing but his sprint scared off the cold. The mist surrounded him and he found no other people around the city.

He screamed Nikita's name. Silence replied. He screamed again and again, running to the pond, to the forest beyond, even to the path leading to the bell tower. His breath failed him. He knelt on the ground and tried to straighten out his thoughts.

"I am a dumb kid!" He popped open the clasp at his neck. The Silver Wing glowed faintly. "I have you to lead me to her."

He took steps in each direction and followed where the light brightened. It guided him through the winding streets and to where the forest began. The Silver Wing shone brilliantly when Kazuo reached a great oak. The thinning mist allowed him to recognize it as the same place he had first seen Nikita.

"Nikita? Are you there?" He turned all around but there was no flash of silver. A drop of water on his head caught his attention. He looked up and she was there, perched on a high tree limb.

A noose was tied to the limb. She had it around her neck.

" _Nikita!_ " Her name squeaked out of him with tears swelling his throat. He slammed into the tree, reaching his hands towards her, but the tree had no low limbs. "Nikita please, you can't, Nikita, Nikita-!"

"Y-You shouldn't have c-come."

"Nikita, you have to listen to me." She was silent and her tears fell like raindrops. "You matter to me. I'm sorry that I made you feel like less than that, but it couldn't be more untrue. You're an amazing person and-"

"Kazuo _stop_. This is how it was meant to be."

"You have to rethink it!"

"I can't! This isn't some choice I'm making, this is what I have to do. It's the only way to get away from the memory and see father again and make everything okay. It's the only way. I have to."

"You're wrong," Kazuo said. "There are ways to get over it. You'll get to the point where the memory won't come up anymore-"

"That'll never happen."

He sighed. "I thought that with my grandfather. Four years ago, he did the same thing you're trying to do. I was the one that found him hanging there. It was exactly like you said about your father: I couldn't look away. I was stuck in place.

"After that, I thought the nightmares and his ghost would never go away. I thought I would be miserable forever. Now, though, it doesn't bother me. I just wish I could have done something."

"I could have done something." Nikita buried her head in her elbow. "I could have fought them. You saw what I can do. I could've saved him, but I watched him die."

Kazuo shook his head, remembering what Looker had said. "Not all at once. Your father was ten million times as strong as you, and he couldn't beat them. You did the right thing. Your job now is to take up his title and be a protector, just like you told that killer! And you're a great protector already, Nikita."

"I'm nothing."

"No way! You're like…" He found her eyes through the mist. "A silver star! Or. Something. Something awesome! You're awesome."

A small laugh eked out of her though tears still ran. "Dumb kid."

Nikita pulled off the rope and dropped to the ground. She stood an arm's length away from Kazuo, staring at him, still crying. Tears blurred his eyes, too. He leapt at her and pulled her into a hug. She stiffened but gradually wrapped her arms around him. The drip, drip, drip on Kazuo's back went faster, faster until she was sobbing and almost crushing him against her. They were together for a small infinity of moments where everything outside was silent and irrelevant.

She released him, her sobs calming and tears slowing. "How did you know to find me?"

Kazuo took a deep breath, held, released. "Before my grandfather did it, he was the kindest he'd ever been. The craziest thing he did, though, was give me the Silver Wing. It's supposed to belong to the current Storyteller and be on his person at all times. He passed it to me instead and told me, 'I'm sorry about your father.'

"So that's why I had to find you. You were doing all of the same things he did and I was so scared that I would find you hanging this time. I was so scared, Nikita, because the world can't lose you.

"This belongs to you."

Kazuo handed her the silver stone. She turned it over in her hands. The power of flight shone and dissolved in light; Nikita spread her wings. Tears still welled in her eyes and her lip quivered.

"Thank you, Kazuo," she whispered.

He smiled at her, both eyes puffy, and hers even redder. Nikita wiped her face and unfolded her wings. Feathers scattered. She exploded off of the ground, and mist dissipated in the aftermath.

Green light shone through the fog, indicating that she had changed forms. Great wingbeats flung blue crescents throughout Ecruteak. They cleared the heavy mist. Nikita sailed over the town, the blue accents on her body seas against the white sky. She circled again then landed next to the mirror-like pond. Kazuo ran to meet her.

Her voice resonated in his mind: "You believe in me."

"Of course!"

"I feel it now." She kowtowed as Ho-oh had weeks earlier. Her snout brushed the ground as she said, "Thank you. You are more than a silvertongue. You are a healer, Kazuo. I will return to the Whirl Islands now, but I'll come back to see you."

A crowd was gathering around Kazuo. Nikita catapulted into the sky, and he didn't watch her go. He faced the people of Ecruteak and said, "I have a new story to tell."

Kazuo ran to his home and retrieved his flute. He stood at the pond, he and Nikita's place, and he could see her reflection standing next to him despite her absence. Her words were clear in his mind though she was still flying away.

"This is the tale of a true hero, the daughter of the fallen Lugia who had the strength to fight through grief and protect us all despite it."

He grasped the flute and played the notes of Lugia's Song.

"This is the tale of Nikita."


End file.
